


And A Single Queen Sized Bed

by The_Wonderful_Jinx



Category: The Black Tapes, The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Short One Shot, Sorry Not Sorry, character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:04:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wonderful_Jinx/pseuds/The_Wonderful_Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an eventful day of exploration and injuries, Alex and Strand get a hotel room for the night. Problem is, there’s only one bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And A Single Queen Sized Bed

Alex doubled over, partly in laughter, mostly out of shock. Strand did not believe in God or any higher being that fell into the category of divine entity. If he did, however, Strand would’ve been starting cursing their names the moment he and Alex stepped into the room. The room itself was nice; clean, orderly, no pests, working hot water, and there were new flowers in a tasteful vase on the end table. The problem was the bed. It was a comfortable bed, it was spacious (big enough for the two of them), the sheets were laundered, and it smelled faintly of lavender. The problem was that there was only one.

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” Alex stated as she composed herself, trying her best to reign in stray fits of giggles. He wondered if her laughter was genuine, or if it was a defense mechanism for all the shit they had been through today.

Strand was still like a statue, but his heart was pounding and his skin felt like the bugs of the forest burrowed their way underneath it. A supposedly simple walk to track the footprints of some “monster” ended up with Strand losing his footing and falling down a rough hill, accidentally dragging Alex down with him. Alex had to haul him back to the visitor’s center, bearing all his weight because of injuries. At the station, the local doctor said he had a sprained ankle, serious bruising, numerous cuts and scrapes from stray branches. The worst were the deep gashes which the doctor had to stitch up on his arms when he hit some rocks. Alex fared better, escaping with some light scrapes to her face - Strand broke her fall. The doctor said it was a miracle they made it out in the condition they were in. Strand did not believe in miracles. But he believed in the healing powers of a hot shower, pain killers, and a night’s rest. The lone bed was taunting him.

“You take the bed Strand.” She said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I can sleep in the car for another night.”

“You need rest Alex.” He replied sternly. He tried standing by himself instead of relying on the crutch the doctor gave him. The instant he shifted his weight, a stabbing pain went up his leg that nearly felled him. Alex barely made it to his side in time. She sighed.

“I’m not the one with a broken ankle.”

“Sprained.” He corrected stiffly. “You can let me go, I can walk.”

“Just barely!” She replied. “Seriously Strand, I never pegged you to pull the macho-man act on me. Just take the bed, you need it more than me.”

“Stop fussing over me Miss Reagan.” He snapped.

“Stop being an ass Doctor Strand.” She fired back with equal frustration.

They glared at one another. She squeezed his arm -the same arm with the still tender from the stitches. He flinched. She let him go, but before she could turn away he grabbed her wrist. When she tried to pull away his grip only tightened. The anger melted into a new expression, one Alex had never seen before. His face was void of emotion, his skin drained of any color, he looked like he was teetering on the edge of death.

“I nearly got you killed Alex.” he whispered, tugging on the sleeve of her ripped shirt. He pulled her closer. “ I nearly got you killed on a foolish quest to prove someone wrong and fuel my goddamn ego.”

“You didn’t mean to Richard.” she replied. She bit back a comment on his ego. It could wait for the morning.

He leaned on her, face buried into her shoulder and arms wrapped around her tightly. The scent of the forest still clung to her shirt and jacket - the leaves, the dirt, and the mud. He felt like he was falling down the hillside all over again, seeing the branches whip passed him as he tried to shield Alex from it all. The height difference between them aggravated the muscles on his bruised back. His head pounded like a drum. Only when he felt her body shaking, struggling to support his weight, did he finally release her. It was cruel reminder that no matter how many times he let her lean on him, there was always a limit – mentally or physically- of her capacity to support him. He asked for so much, and took too much.

“I’m so sorry Alex. Please forgive me.” he pleaded.

“I forgive you Richard.” she said gently. “Now please, for my sake, take the damn bed.”

This time, he did not argue. The doctor ordered him to keep the usage of his arms to a bare minimum. Alex had to help him with almost every task; from undressing him so he could bathe (she kept her eyes closed for the entire affair thankfully), washing the dirt off his skin and hair, redressing him, handling his medication, replacing the bandages on his arms, walking him to the bed, even feeding him like a damn child.

After feeding him the last of the microwave meal, Alex went into the bathroom to change into her sleepwear; a plain white t shirt that swallowed her small body and flannel shorts. In the poor lighting he could see the bags under her dark eyes.

He watched her pace back and forth as she got ready for the night; eating her own dinner, brushing her teeth, making phone calls to her producers, answering emails, and even recording a few lines to put in the next episode of the podcast. He watched her for a few hours before she realized he was not asleep, just silently observing her like he always did when idle.

“How are you feeling Alex?” he asked as she unbound her hair from the clip and the many pins she used to keep her hair tamed. The bobby pins fell from her hair one by one, hitting the ground silently. She looked at the pins with disdain.

“I feel like passing out on something soft in all honesty Strand.” she said with a weary smile. She sat down on the side not occupied by Strand’s resting form. She ran her comb through her hair, slowly going through knots and removing any small twigs that got caught in her hair. Had he full usage of his arms, he would’ve helped her with the task.

“You can sleep here with me Alex.” he offered. She paused her combing for a second before continuing, seemingly unfazed. If his eyes didn’t deserve him (and he had his glasses on), she was combing faster than before.

“I’ve slept in your car before Richard. I can sleep in it for one more night.” her voice low so she wouldn’t arouse the ire of those nearby.

“Alex, I’m not the only one who nearly died today. Let me make it up to you in the only way I physically can; and that’s by giving you a comfortable place to sleep.” he countered, his voice also low. 

Her eyes went between Strand and the door. Back and forth, weighing her options, the risks, the rewards. In the end, her sore back won out. The car might have been less awkward, but she was going to be driving for hours the next day. The mattress it was.

With a sigh, accepting her fate, she slid under the blankets and burrowed herself until she was comfortable. With her back to Strand, she didn’t see the wide, happy grin on his face.

“I move a lot. So if I kick you, don’t blame me.” she warned. Strand laughed. It hurt to do so, but not doing so would’ve been an insult. And despite the pain, he reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder.

“And I sometimes snore. I think we’re even here Alex.” he replied.

Alex shut off the table top lamp. Strand fell asleep quickly, no thanks to the pain killers. And why it took her an hour, Alex followed soon after, lulled to sleep by the noises of the nighttime creatures and Strand’s steady breathing. They slept soundly in the single queen sized bed; warm and safe in each other’s presence.

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of the NOTLP interview The Black Tape Producers and the reveal that YES they have found the Alex/Richard ship fics and they have read them (god help us all). It was supposed to be funny story. I mean, the only-one-bed shtick is classic, and add in Strand and Alex, I had comedy gold! Instead I turned it angsty with a slightly fluff ending.


End file.
